Same Disease
by InkAndPens394
Summary: A sort of wishful thinking tag to episode 18, because I REALLY WANT CAS TO HELP DEAN OUT! AND I ADDED FLUFF! Please review! This is Destiel; don't like; don't read.


**_Dalek here! I was bored so I wrote this and *gasp, it's a depressing Destiel oneshot. Anyway, I'm not Kripke, there fore I do not own Supernatural :'(. Enjoy and please review! I love reviews _**

I am toxic, I am so impure  
I am dying inside, I'm dying for a cure  
Separated, I am quick to resist  
I am all alone infected with this

The soul of the righteous man had always burned brightly and even in hell Castiel had seen the strength of his spirit. Now, Castiel knew he might never fully understand how Dean had come through both hell and purgatory without breaking and had been so shattered by a brother's words spoken in anger. Sam had succeeded in breaking Dean in a few moments when demons and angels had failed. That thought filled Castiel with anger at Sam's inconsiderate nature.

Dean didn't know that Castiel was watching him from a distance through those months of strained silence and sleepless nights. His mother had always promised him that angels were watching over him, but Dean had stopped believing that years ago. He knew he was alone, lost and broken, with no chance of being forgiven for what he had done. After everything they had gone through together, Sam had condemned him for not wanting to alone; for not wanting to lose the only family he had left.

When Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain he expected it to kill him in the end; now he was realizing that the Mark wasn't going to kill him. It was going to destroy him. Everything that was Dean Winchester was slowly slipping away, replaced hopelessness and rage that he was powerless to fight against. Alone, he stood no chance of resisting the darkness that was closing in around him. If he had Cas, or even Sam to help him he might have had a chance, but knowing that no one would care when he was entirely consumed he had little motivation to try.

Castiel could sense Dean's struggle even from his self-imposed distance. Even with Heaven locked and a stolen grace slowly burning him Castiel could still sense his hunter. He could feel Dean's soul shattering, his spirit crumbling under the weight of pain and loneliness, and he wanted desperately to go to him; to somehow comfort him, but Dean was not the only broken one. Any illusion that he could help anyone sucessfully had been torn away from Castiel with his wings.

Everything he tried to do had become twisted and unrecognizable, working against him in destruction of everything he held dear. Castiel knew if anyone was to blame for the agony of Dean's current situation it was him. He had tried so desperately to fix Heaven, to fix his home, that he had been blind to Metatron's scheming. The angels because of him; Gadreel fell and tricked his way into Sam's head because of him. He, Castiel, was solely responsible for the circumstances that had led Dean to accept the Mark. How could he help Dean when he was the cause of the hunter's pain?

* * *

When Dean heard Cas' voice on the phone he fought to hold back a flood of conflicting emotions. Fury; why didn't you call sooner, Cas, you son of a bitch! Why did you abandon me? Fear; Cas, please, you have to be safe; I can't lose you too. But mostly he felt an overwhelming sense of joy at hearing the angel's voice again.

"How are you, Dean?" _I'm sorry; sorry for not being there. _Castiel didn't miss Dean's hesitation or the tremor in his voice when he did respond.

"I'm fine, Cas." _I'm afraid; Cas, help_ me! "How are you?"

"I miss my wings." _I miss seeing you; I miss being able to be there when you need me._

* * *

When Castiel returned to his motel room after his confrontation with Metatron he was consumed by a cold fury. He was nothing but a pawn in Metatron's game of power; his actions were to be subject to the will of another once more. He tore the carefully researched papers and maps off the wall went back out into the night to buy a bus ticket.

When Castiel arrived at the bunker he wasn't expecting a warm welcome, but he definitely wasn't expecting to find himself face to face with Dean pointing a gun at him.

"Hello Dean, I know you're angry-" Dean didn't seem to recognize him. The hand that held the gun was shaking and Castiel realized how wrong he had been to stay away.

"Dean, it's Cas," he resorted to the use of Dean's nickname for him hoping to reach the hunter. He could sense Dean's confusion, his struggle to make sense of what his mind was telling him could not be true.

"I don't understand, why are you here?"

"I had to come, I'm sorry I wasn't here before."

Dean laughed harshly, blinking in an attempt to focus. "That's the problem, Cas, you have been here. Everytime I fall asleep you're there, but you're gone when I wake up. You aren't real, Cas, so why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Dean, please," Castiel put out his hand and took a slow step forward until he was close enough to touch the hunter; the gun still wavered between them. "Dean, I'm real. I promise you, I'm not a nightmare or a phantom. I'm here."

Dean stared at him with so much desperation in his eyes that Castiel wanted to wrap his arms around the hunter and protect him from the entire world. The gun clattered to the floor and Dean backed away, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Cas, but you have to go. I'm not safe to be around right now."

Castiel shook his head and crossed the room to wrap his arms around the hunter. "I'm not going anywhere."

Surprisingly, Dean didn't resist the angel's embrace. He melted into it, the tension slowly draining from his muscles.

Castiel knew that humans cried when they were overwhelmed by emotion, but he had never personally experienced tears. Now, he felt them running down his face in salty rivers. This was what it meant to care about someone so much that their pain became your own.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you, Dean."

Dean mumbled something nearly inaudible against Castiel's neck.

"You're already helping me; you're here, that's enough for right now." Castiel tightened his arms around Dean and felt the hunter respond, pulling him closer.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"How do humans express themselves when they can't find the words for what they are feeling?"

Dean pulled back slightly and looked down into the angel's unimaginably blue eyes. "Like this." He pressed his lips against Castiel's, hoping desperately that Cas would understand what he was trying to say. When Dean pulled away after a long moment Cas blinked uup at him in confusion.

"What does it mean when humans do that?"

"I love you."

Castiel kissed him softly, lips barely brushing against his in a gesture that was unbelievably tender. "I love you too, Dean. "

They were still broken, maybe they would never be completely whole again, but they were no longer alone. Together, they could face the world.

I am immune to you, you're immune to me  
We are both sick souls with the same disease.  
Only you can touch me, you alone

**So, I opted to make Cas fairly innocent concerning kissing etc., even though that is not necessarily how his character has been portrayed in the last couple of seasons. Personally, think it was adorable when, in early seasons, Cas has been completely naive about certain human interactions. Let me know what you thought of this story by leaving a review. Please? Queue Misha Collins level puppy dog eyes.**


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